Silverstreams

“Irene Slotnick come on down to your dreams come true”.
The audience cheers as a dazed Irene Slotnick stumbles towards the stage. The familiar theme of “Dreams Come True” fills the re-circulated air.

“Oh my God. Oh my God”.

The excitement cannot be contained. It seeps through camera three, out of the studio and into the living rooms of the nation. People everywhere are getting their handkerchiefs ready.

“You’re already a winner. Do you realize what that means?”

“Oh my God”. God hears this a lot.

“You do know how the game works?”

“I can’t believe it Rex. I can’t hardly believe it.”

“Well you’d better believe it. You are going home with one of these showcases. All you have to do is pick the one.”

“I can’t believe it Rex. It’s a dream.”

“A dream come true”, he hollers on cue, “for one lucky winner. And today that winner is you, Irene – may I call you that?” And to the audience: “Which one will she pick folks? Shall we start with showcase one?”

Irene nods.

“Take it away Jenna.”

We see Jenna now, stunning as ever. There is a dream-like fluidity to her motions. With a graceful sweeping gesture, she parts the curtain before us, like a red velvet sea. But it is Rex, not Jenna, who commands the microphone, and the proceedings.

“Behind showcase number one we have…”

The curtains draw away, revealing WORLD PEACE.

“As part of the exclusive world peace package we have an END TO HUNGER. No more famine. No AIDS IN AFRICA. No economic slavery as a result of free market capitalism. NUCLEAR DISARMAMENT.”

Irene squeals with delight. The crowd is gasping for oxygen.

“We’re not done yet. Your package also contains PEACE IN THE MIDDLE EAST. No more CHILD LABOUR. No sexual slavery. No more wholesale destruction of the environment. Clean energy. Freedom of the people. In a word: DEMOCRACY.”

“All this is yours, it you choose showcase number one. Remember, you’ve already won.”

“This is a tough one Rex.” Irene looks to the audience for re-assurance. The audience looks to the teleprompter. There is a momentous hush as, collectively, the enormity, the universality of this unprecedented prize package settles over them.

“Do you remember how this works?”

Irene nods.

“If you choose showcase number one, you will receive the world peace package. But if you want to know what’s behind that second curtain…”

“Then I have to choose showcase number two?”

“That’s how the game is played. Which will it be? They’re cheering their hearts out for you.” And so they are.

“Oh I don’t know Rex.”

The crowd cheers wildly. Irene! Irene!

“Oh I’ll do it Rex.” We knew that she would. “I want to see what’s behind that curtain.”

The crowd goes wild, as they say.

“Jenna, the curtain!” Jenna, of course, is already on it. The music swells.

“A brand new Kitchen Friend Mixmaster 2000. It will mix, stir and slice.”

Irene smiles, clapping her hands expectantly. The audience lets out a polite cheer, genuine, but not over the top.

“But that is not all.” The music swells another notch. We knew that it would.

The audience hovers once again, in suspended animation.

“Where would you put your Mixmaster without a DREAM KITCHEN.”

The crowd ecstatic. Irene covers her face, overcome by genuine emotion.

“Yes, this modern kitchen is a chef’s dream. Just the right mix of mahogany and stainless steel to make you feel at home. The counter tops are marble. And induction cooking means you’ll never singe that sirloin again.”

“I love to cook.”

“Who wouldn’t, in such a fabulous dream kitchen? But where Irene? Where do you love to cook?”

“In my new kitchen?”

“In your new DREAM HOME. Your kitchen comes with a luxurious mansion, overlooking the PACIFIC OCEAN. And for those romantic evening walks, we’ll throw in a PRIVATE BEACH.”

Irene starts weeping uncontrollably. Tears of joy.

“We’re not done.”

“You’re not?”

“What good would a private beach be, without your very own PEDIATRIC SURGEON. He works long hours, but he loves children, and he has his own car, if you know what I mean. James is six-foot-four, has blue eyes and his hair is real.”

James steps forward from in between the kitchen, and the backlit photo of the private beach. He’s smiling feebly, a little overwhelmed by it all.

Poor Irene, weeping now uncontrollably, as there is nary a dry eye in the studio. But Rex will not let up.

“Where would you put your dream home, without your very own PRIVATE ISLAND.”

“It’s a dream come true.” Irene blubbers feebly.

“Of course it is.”

“No really Rex. I’ve always wanted this. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me Irene. It’s your dream.”

http://heymichael.wordpress.com/2010/05/05/dreams-come-true/

The elders have asked that the morning after every full moon at 10:00 a.m. that we look to the Sun, to the Flowers and to the Earth…. In doing so we bring more solar energy and flower wisdom to the earth, because the next age is the Age of Flowers. Flowers are our medicine for the next age.

Ven. Dhyana Ywahoo
Clan Chieftaness
Cherokee Nation

toes in wet golden sand
pacific afternoon

you arrive
silver dragon
pressed outward
as white feathered cloud

life of the stream
dance of the trees
inspiration to the moon
the entire cosmos
given space to breathe
by your magnetic embrace

how did i think
i could be without you?
memory lost
in the long long
war of the worlds

standing here
on a city beach of thousands
i see you again
and from knowing compose
returning song

oriaemel

from beneath
a halting
stuttered life
of forever
almost there
i choose
this
breath
and launch
a fullness moment
with feeling’s freedom sails

oriaemel koam cheras
shiftstudio.blogspot.com

unicorn soul mate

deep
electric flow

swim the core star
journey go

black night
above
below

spiral living light
making soul

a poem in green

a robin’s breast
all red, all hued, with loving minders
cast
your way
we go with loves new blooms
walking all about.

wafting
drifting
softly
sound … petal like
in the glowing of the moon
it’s firey fronds, its fraerie ends, all up
in glorious grand.

a cat walks by
and back again
seems to stalk the truth
of where your beauty shines the most
the least
the longest bit.

where, where, where
full rounding circles depth you walk
wandering round and round and round
an angels seeking breadth ….
ah ……. feel. that
the crispness of that
clarity. soft. spoken. sound.

ah, breath and breadth, the words the same
it almost seems, does it not
and yet, yet, yet once again
almost, just the tip
of the silver
guilding cup
waiting in the moon
for the newest sounds …
of whom?

can you see it, feel it then,
this angel you’ve always been
waiting
oh so carefully for you to know
self so clearly once again?
can you?
can you?

standing, curving, sweeping you
held so gently there
encompassed
wings spread all about
swirling, dancing, like you do
on yonder graceful hill
a hill I swear I once
saw you tramp
in graceful willows bloom.

I can see you there
in that moon-full space
standing
standing, oh so gracefully
where you left your special friend
wondering, wondering
wondering to self ……….

what, what did I leave behind?
the gift of self to self
for the time. for the time … hmmm …
it took for you
to go on journey’s tale
and claim the highest of your self
beneath the willows toil.

are you ready?
for this grand time
my studious; respectful; friend
ready for the filling, fueling mystery
of your divinity flying in.

to fill
and fill
and fill
you up, full breasted
glories worn
storm tossed cares no more;
to keep you from?

well,
who knows what …
perhaps ’tis only
a sailing space. a resting space.
a divinity’s singing plane
to find the truth inside …
the courage to speak
and speak
and speak
your peace of self well made.

to open your self the widest yet
of any you’ve ever known
to let your breast
so sorely shorn
let its spangled travails out
and know from deep within your well
your wealth of knowledge kept
the wisdom of your songs.

your truth
inspiring
trusting
freeing self
to, well, to share
the very best of all your heart
and what lies hidden there.

so carefully
so skillfully
shorn of all its fluff
of all its dross
of all its bamboozling ways
and wear the mantle of the cross
you’ve born so ever long
and let it fling its glorious cape
noisily in the wind.

and let it all go!
all go!
go!
flying free!!
the bird, the sky, the angel!
ah, the angel, softly dancing free
come once again
full circle, home!
inside yourself brand new …

a brand new blend!

a willows graceful wand!

dancing, dancing, dancing!

tree lights blooming, sounding in the wind!

silver tunes
new runes brought forth this day
a new moon, a new gilt
a robin’s glorious breast wide ope’d
a michael’s angel heart
spread from east to west
and hope, the mode of the time
our world embarks upon.

celebrating.
a green tide loving day
for your birthing, singing,
tidal wave of knowing
glowing song.
celebrating
celebrating
celebrating
green and frosted fraeire sounds set free
to sing again through you
and you
and me
and the spaces in between.